


klay thompson has lost it.

by judesrivers



Category: Men’s Basketball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: 2015-2016 playoffs, Angst, Awkwardness, Communication Issues, First time arguments, Kink exploration (?), Klay and Steph are bad at feelings, LeBron has words of wisdom, M/M, Mild Smut, Multi, Smut, Somewhat, Steph gets injured and Klay has a weird reaction to it, Steph is caught of guard, bc this story is taking its own turn, i don’t fucking know how to write smut, i removed the graphic violence archive warning, talks of break-up but like i’m not sure if it goes through
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24867520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/judesrivers/pseuds/judesrivers
Summary: based on the MCL sprain during the playoff game between Rockets vs Warriors, game 4. yet with a little sprinkle of my own imagination.
Relationships: Past LeBron James/Stephen Curry, Stephen Curry/Klay Thompson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. klay, you’re so fucking weird dude.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the misleading title lmaoo i stopped giving a shit on what to name stories. excuse the errors on this, & enjoy. please leave your input & what you think!!

—“ _Don’t_ touch me.”

Those same harsh, but simultaneously not harsh, words echoed in Klay’s head throughout the couple of days thar slugged on by. As well as the spontaneous events leading up to how those words were spat out so aggressively. 

We’ll get to that part in a bit though. 

Right now, Klay was on the couch again. Chest heavy, throat burning, eyes strained with some type of tear blockage happening. There was a stampede of random and ridiculously negative thoughts riveting mercilessly throughout the man’s head. He was sure enough, immensely sure, that Steph hates him and that they’re over. Everything was over. 

The man had not even looked his way since then. Well, not in the way that he used to. 

Inhaling, Klay moved his hand up to his forehead, pressed his sweaty palm against it and released a shaky sigh. He had not known precisely what he had done. Well, he figured it was what he confessed to Steph little ways back. 

“I kind of get off to you.. in pain.” Is what he basically said, like a fucking idiot. 

‘Who the fuck says that?’ Klay thought to himself as the memory transpired in his head again. Something that made the confession even worse is because right before that, Steph slipped on a wet spot in the middle of the floor, it fucked up his knee, really bad. Right in the middle of a fucking game.

It was just hours after that where the bullshit conspired. 

**A few days ago**. 

Klay was not sick in the head. Or was he? 

Watching the way Steph was grimacing, curling up, and tensing up remotely in the middle of the court while clutching his right knee for a split second. It did not provoke him to feel a tendency of him wanting to scoop Steph up, and make him shout in pain even more. Then to fuck him senseless against the lockeroom wall, loving the sounds of his grunts of pain and cries of pleasure all mixed up in one. 

No, no, no. Seeing the love of his life trembling in immense pain, and hissing due to an injured knee should not provoke those type of emotions. 

So why did it? 

Steph in pain does not deserve to be fetishizedby the one he loves, and seeks protection for. That is what exactly Klay has thought, drank in and scolded himself for as he watched Steph make his way over to the lockeroom. A presentable limp in his walk, and the way he clenched his fist as he took steps off of the court. 

That familiar limp. 

Klay had to swallow the saliva formulating in his mouth to keep himself from drooling. God he was so fucking disgusting, what was wrong with him for thinking like that? If anything he should go and check on his boyfriend, hopefully an ACL was not ruptured or torn during that slip on the court. 

During halftime, Klay went up to him. Eyes glazed with concern as Steph had the warriors sweat shirt settled around his neck, and shiny green eyes that already knew the outcome of this. Klay parted his lips, to say something, anything. Yet nothing came out. He was feeling mute in the midst of sneakers screeching against the court and the sound of balls hitting the court, splashing the net. 

Steph did another warm up, testing himself out. A wince when too much weight was settled on his knee, and a soft grunt proceeded to follow through afterwards. 

Klay’s dick twitched. 

Steph looked over at his trainer, coach was next to her, as well as the GSW team doctor.The whole team knew that was the white flag on the plate. Steph exhaled shakily, and then looked over to his lover, “I don’t think I’m playing anymore, man.” He spoke tearily, Klay could hear the incoming breakdown. “Let’s get this dub though, that’s all that matters.” 

Klay found his voice, although it was weak and low for all the wrong reasons. “Right, right.” 

Steph was right, he did not come back out afterwards. It was emotional for him, for everyone really. They were just doing so well, so fantastic until this happened and people may not think it will be a setback for them but Klay knows when Steph is really hurt. 

They won, thankfully. Pulling through gracefully without their beloved point guard. It would have been nice to see the opposing crowd pumped up by Steph’s ridiculous shots, although he started out rough in the game. 

In the lockeroom, Klay had noticed Steph was already gone. Although he would usually be devastated by Steph leaving out of the game earlier than him, he understands at this moment. If anything, he needs to think about what the fuck was happening in his brain before doing anything else. 

The way his dick was straining against his basketball shorts was embarrassing, all because he decided to watch his boyfriend limp away in obvious pain. Not only in pain, but his face becoming red with hot tears of frustration and emotion clouding his usual mask. Fuck, Steph crying and in pain? Jesus Christ, it just sounded so good to be true to Klay. 

This was not the fucking time to be turning everything sexual. 

Klay was the last one to shower, not wanting anyone to point out the hard-on he was carrying around for the last two hours. The way Steph was a tease to him drove him crazy, and the older man did not have to do much. Klay closed his eyes as he tipped his head under the steamy water, letting it french his body as he continued to think about his injured boyfriend. 

The way Steph was nibbling on his bottom lip, eyes glossed with hot tears, his cheeks becoming more, and more flushed as he spoke to him about not playing. The only thing Klay could focus on was the way Steph was just unfolding into a vulnerable man in public, when usually Steph would cry inside of the four walls of their bedroom. Just seeing him so wrecked and quivering gave Klay a rush of arousal, he could barely acknowledge the actual concern he felt for his lover in the situation. 

•••

“Babe?” Klay called out, as he trekked past the doorway to their master bedroom with his bag settled on his shoulder. Klay placed his gym bag onto the floor, making his way towards the bed. He noticed thick, jet black sheets covered over a familiar form of body that Klay knew all too well. Klay has gently removed the covers away from Steph, his eyes dropping down immediately to his shirtless and red faced boyfriend. 

_Fuck_. 

Steph’s bare, beautifully toned chest was heaving, his eyes were wet and puffy, dried tear stains smeared on his cheeks. The sight of him crying looked ravishingly sexy, and Klay felt as if he was going to pass out. Steph grasped the covers from Klay’s grip, scrambling up to sit on his behind as he staredat his younger boyfriend with his bottom lip quivering. 

“Hi,” Steph exhaled, his voice trembling and broken with angst. 

Klay closed his eyes, exhaled and then opened them to stare into the sad eyes of Steph Curry. He brung his hand up to cup his baby’s cheek, brushing his thumb against the red blush from crying. “Hey.” Klay had replied, trying his best to be casual. “You alright?” 

Steph shoved him. 

‘Well there goes that,’ Klay grunted to himself as Steph moved his good leg up to his chest, an attempt to scoot away from Klay. 

“No, of course I’m not alright.” Steph roughly said, an obvious tinge of annoyance in his voice just by the question. “If I was alright, I would have been on the court Klay. I wouldn’t have to sit out and go into the locker room again. Or miss out on at least thirteen games in the playoffs.” Steph ranted, his voice softening at the end as Klay moved onto the bed and wrapped his arms around the waist of Steph. 

“It was a dumb question, I’m sorry.” Klay replied, pulling Steph close to his body, he wanted his warmth. He felt himself smile on the inside when Steph exhaled, and cuddled against him with little movements so he would not have to move his legs much. Due to the height, and size difference it seemed a bit harder to do for him. 

“I’m just so tired.” Steph sighed, getting comfortable in a position that would seem uncomfortable to anyone else, but to Steph it was alright. 

Klay’s felt his heart wince, kissing Steph’s collarbone as he pulled the smaller one of the two closer to him. “Really? I just got home though, and I’ve missed you.” Klay continued to talk to Steph, applying kisses along the older’s jaw down to his neck. 

The kisses ultimately caused Steph to squirm, his breath lightly hitching. His movements made him accidentally brush his thigh against Klay’s hardened bulge, and it made him freeze up. “Gosh Klay, what the fuck? You’re so hard baby.” Steph somewhat whispered, genuine shock filtering his voice as he looked up at Klay. 

One thing Klay hated, was how long it took Steph’s face to clear up after being flustered for so long. Klay only nodded his head, treating the gaze Steph was giving to him back with his own determined stare of his own. Klay licked his lips, tightening his grip around Steph. “Been wanting you all day, since after the game.” He admitted, voice low and rough. 

Steph’s eyelashes fluttered, as he took in the comment Klay made. “You’re a fucking maniac.” He breathed out, his voice as well low and whispered with arousal present. Feeling a hand on his cheek, Steph moved his face to the direction of Klay. 

“Mm -“ he gasped against Klay’s full lips, eyes cartoonishly wide and his hands gently placed onto Klay’s biceps. Steph shuddered feeling the warmth, and wetness of Klay’s tongue dipping sensually into his mouth to brush elegantly against his own. The older began to dig his fingers into Klay’s skin, tilting his head to the side as his eyes began to flutter closed at the feeling of Klay’s tongue swirling languidly against his. 

Pulling away, Steph could not help but to ask. “What got you so fucking needy?” He asked, his breath softly puffing against Klay’s lips as he felt the younger’s hands begin to run all over his body. 

Klay was drunk off of kissing Steph, so drunk that he told him everything. “The way you was just in so much pain, and how you just looked like you were so ready to fall apart in the middle of halftime.” Klay spoke confidently, not noticing how Steph’s breath paused as Klay ran the tip of his finger against the smooth skin of his boyfriend. “It was something about the way you limped off of the court. It did something to me. Something that turned me on more than anything else.” 

It all came at once when Klay heard Steph’s voice. He noticed that it was soft, careful, treading when he asked, “You get off to me in extreme pain?” 

At another time Klay sound like a horrible person, but as of now he was feigning off of the powerful arousal he felt. So when he ended up cupping Steph’s cock through his boxers l in his left hand, and running his thumb over the head of Steph’s dick, Klay was driven with the sound that came from Steph’s mouth. 

Yeah, they need to talk later about this. 

“So pretty,” Klay answered his question just from that murmur. He lifted himself up, so that he hovered over Steph’s smaller body and leaned down to suck the soft skin into his mouth. 

Steph arched his back, never getting used to the feeling of Klay running the warmth of his tongue against a sensitive spot on his neck. “Uh- Klay, fuck.” He softly groaned, closing his eyes as and pressing his hands against Klay’s shoulders. Klay did not notice how Steph was gently pushing him away, and wanting to-but -not-wanting to move away from under his body. 

“I’ll take care of you.” Klay murmured into the soft skin, enjoying the way Steph trembled pleasantly under him from the anticipation. 

The younger man moved away briefly, prying off his shirt, desperate for more skin to skin contact. He felt Steph’s shaking hands move forward, silently tugging downwards at Klay’s waistband with tiny hugs and impatient hums. “Hurry up,” Steph had breathlessly whined, it was something that resembled a whisper and some sort of forced command. 

Klay made a noise, eventually removing every cloth of clothing off of his body. Afterwards, he proceeded to climb on top of his Steph wanting to spread his legs apart, but at the same time he did not want to injure him more. Or maybe he did, but that was a thought of its own. 

Klay has one hand wrapped around Steph’s shaft, pumping him slowly, thumb brushing against the tip of his cock. The other was rummaging around their nightstand. Steph began to wither, taking in a long breath and exhaling a trembling one as he took ahold of the sheets, twisting them to his perception of pleasure. “Your hands are so big,” Steph suddenly commented, his voice was fragile and coated with underlying emotions that involved the sensation creeping over him at this moment. 

Klay only replied with a heavy chuckle, popping open the bottle of lube that he graciously found in the nightstand drawer. 

Steph moved his hands, this time bringing them up against the headboard as Klay shifted on top of him. The younger one began to pour the cold liquid down onto Steph’s chest, which had resulted in the older one to lose his sense of breathing. The feeling of lube dribbling down his chest to his stomach, pooling into his pelvis left him shuddering. His mind was in the gutter, but also into the moment that was happening right now.

When he felt a lubed finger circling his rim, then being carefully pushed inside of him, he jerked. Jaw dropped, and his breath coming out in strangled hitches when Klay immediately brushed the pad of his finger against the bundle of sensitive nerves. Steph grappled at Klay wrist, retrieving to find his voice throughout the immense amount of emotions controlling his muscles. Klay was in love. Watching with enormous ego as Steph unfolded underneath him, even then he let Steph guide his wrist, his fingers inside of him. 

“C’mon,” Steph huffed, wrecked and frustrated as he pinched Klay’s wrist. 

Klay scrunched his nose up, pushing in a second finger that made Steph’s legs fall apart carelessly. From the swift motion, Steph let out a gasp of pain as he removed his hand from the backboard and brung it to his knee. 

Spare him, please. Klay felt precum begin to make its entrance known, just from the sight of Steph trying to adjust his knee as best as he could. Grimacing, with tremors, fuck why did that look so enticing? So erotic. Klay wanted to inflict more pain, to bruise him from his own hand, to..to- 

“Put it in already.” Steph spat, somewhat diffused to the bliss he was feeling and highly embarrassed at how Klay was staring at him in pain. Like he was some type of meat. 

•••

It was when they were at the hospital for an x-ray on an off day when Klay had randomly brought the subject back up. Steph was sitting on the bed, his legs were dangling off of the hospital bed despite his above average height for a non-basketball player. It was only because he was lean, and slim.Not as built as someone his height would actually be. Klay thought it was cute, how tiny Steph can be at random moments, it made him want to just bury him in his arms forever so no one could touch him. 

Although, there was an obstacle blocking him to do that at the moment. Right now, it seemed that there was some type of huge elephant in the room, and he knew Steph had felt it as well. Maybe it was Klay’s overthinking, but something has been off since they made love the night before. 

A usually vocal Steph seemed unnervingly, and weirdly quiet. Or that what he wanted to seem like when they had sex, until Klay would angle his hips differently and fuck into the older man causing a soft yelp to escape nonetheless. Klay would cease his thrusting a few times, and lean down to whisper into Steph’s ear. “You want me to stop?” He asked, voice breathless and wrecked due to the unbearable tightness squeezing around him. 

Steph would lift his face off of the pillow, an obvious heaviness to his voice and breathy pants. “No, just keep going.” 

Klay prayed to God that he was not forcing himself to say that. He did not know what he would do to himself if he ever found out that he hurt Steph. Well, he probably did but in a different type of hurt that it would take years to recover from. 

When Steph came, it seemed like normal, his breathing picked up and he lifted himself up on his forearms. Klay stroked him from behind, feeling the warm liquid drench through his fingers and palm as he jerked Steph off. Klay thrusted himself to his own orgasm just from the sounds that Steph was making, no longer trying to be quiet as his volume rose and rose with each stimulation that was brung forward with Klay’s thrust. 

“You’re going to make me c-cum again,” Steph had managed, clenching around Klay as the other man aggressively rode out his orgasm. 

“Come on them baby, let me feel it.” Klay replied, his hand squeezing Steph’s cock relentlessly as he continued to thrust into Steph despite his own overstimulation. He wanted to make Steph cum several times, just to make up for the first round of just silence and soft whimpering. 

When Steph came for the third time, he felt his good leg give out due to the amount of blood rushing in different paths of his body, and he crashed back onto the bed. His chest was once again touching the sheets, his face subconsciously buried into the pillows as Klay continued to fuck him mercilessly, caging him in. The sounds of their skin, the creak of the bed and the panting of their breaths took over the sound. 

Fuck it was so _hot_. 

‘Anyways, back to reality.’ Klay reminded himself before he can pop another two hour long hard-on. “I’m sorry if this made things awkward between us, you know, I uh - hate when you get injured. It sucks.” He cringed at the last comment, ‘It sucks’ really Klay? 

He felt trapped. Their relationship never had awkward times like this, or any weird argument purging on. Whenever something was bothering one of them, they’d always find a way to talk it out at the end or just crack jokes about it like teenagers.

Steph hadn’t really reacted to what Klay had said. He just made a hollowed humming sound, making sure Klay knew that Steph was acknowledging him. Although it was not exactly what Klay expected, it was better than being flat out ignored. Klay stared at the side of his face, feeling his insides cave in dramatically at the lack of attention Steph was giving him. Something that was completely uncharacteristic, and not Stephen Curry at all. 

Klay moved towards him, feeling like an awkward teen as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to Steph’s cheek. “Baby? What’s wrong?” He asked carefully, not wanting to jump into a snake pit of conclusions and thoughts that had been steering in his head. 

Steph had shakily exhaled while puffing his cheeks and dropping his head, Klay noticed that Steph hadn’t reacted much to the kiss. There was a bad feeling provoked in his state of mind from that. 

“I’m just tired Klay.” Steph answered, truthfully. 

•••

Steph was tired, falling asleep on the couch immediately when they arrived home. A knee brace was wrapped around Steph’s right knee, now diagnosed as a sprained MCL that really shook Steph up. Klay felt like shit for ever romanticizing an injury that could have been so much worse, and using the factor that it was so painful for Steph to his own pleasure. 

He decided to trust whatever process was happening in their relationship. Steph seemed to be in a bubble, more focused on whatever task he was given, it made Klay assume that he was coming down with an illness or something. Or Klay should accept that Steph was ignoring him in a way that was not usually perceived as ‘ignoring’ to any other person outside of their bubble. Klay just knows that Steph is mad at him, he has to be. 

Then again, Steph could be just as unpredictable in his relationships as he is with shooting the most impossible 3’s. Maybe he was just sick, and he was not feeling up to talk to Klay very much. 

So that night, when Klay cuddled up against Steph who was already in bed after taking a long shower, the tense silence that they both were wrapped did not seem much. 

But it did, it seemed very much to Klay that something was off. 

“Klay, why do you seem to get off to me being in pain?” Steph had suddenly asked in a uncomfortably silent car ride to the practice facility the morning after. 

The question caught Klay off guard, but he kept a stoned face as he continued to drive, eyes distractedly sketching out the road ahead. “Well, it’s not something that I  always get off on.” He replied, not even noticing how defensive his tone seemed to be until he glanced over and saw the unspecified offended expression that Steph made. Klay clenched his jaw, mentally kicking himself as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel at his stupidity. 

Quickly, Steph’s mask came on, something Klay despised. The shorter man put on a facade, something that gave off the energy of not being phased. Something he would put on during a game. “You’re so fucking mean. What is even attractive about me being pain?” He questioned, voice flat and somewhat smug as he stared intently at the side of Klay’s face. 

“I don’t know Steph, it’s just- something that just happens. I don’t know what it is. I guess it’s just a kink.” Klay said the last sentence with a forced laugh, trying to diffuse the tension and play off the actual problem with this statement. 

But there was no laughter from the opposing team. Steph turned his gaze away, looking straight forward while chewing on the inside of his cheek for a second, and then he parted his lips. “I’m hurt Klay.” He replied, his voice was breathy, somewhat teary, although he was not mentioning what exactly hurt on him, the words did make Klay’s chest cave in. Yet instead of thinking of it obviously meant, Klay forced himself to trace the thought back to his knee. 

Like a dumbass, Klay reached over and touched the bad knee of his boyfriend.He gave it a gentle squeeze, and a soft tap which might’ve seemed condescending to Steph’s end, but it was a sign of comfort from Klay’s. 

•••

money23green:  klay can u get us sum bk? 

klaythompson:  lol no im takin steph home 

money23green:  how wen andre already drove him home?? 

The fuck. 

Klay used one hand to pull his sweats up after he was done pissing in the urinals, the other was tightly clenching his phone as he adjusted his sweatpants. Some sort of possessive rush conquered his entire being, which made him aggressively wash his hands in the bathroom sink before exiting out of the gym bathroom. 

What the fuck? When has Steph ever took a ride home with Andre during practice? Ever since Klay was drafted, it was always Klay that would accompany him home, it seemed like a silent agreement between both of them as their relationship grew closer. 

Okay so, Klay concluded that Steph was indeed mad at him. That this situation seemed to be worse than he had thought. Way worse. 

Gosh, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if him and Steph ever broke up for some reason. Steph was his world, always has been, shit he would watch Steph’s highlights to bed and for the first thing in the morning. The way he was so enraptured with the way Steph seemed to be some immortal piece of art, who can never spare a single gaze over to someone like Klay who had thought would not ever get to Steph’s level. 

How beautiful Steph could be, and how modest despite the oozing confidence he always carries on the court. Klay noticed immediately that whenever he praised Steph’s skills, the older man would become flushed and somewhat shy from the compliment. The way he was wrapped around Steph’s finger, and how Steph was wrapped around his from the beginning seemed to enhance the attention given from everyone around them. It must’ve been that obvious. 

To others, Steph was a baby faced assassin, to Klay he was simply his baby. The way Steph would latch onto him, beam at him in much different way than he’d beam at anyone else ever. The way Steph can open up to him, both mentally and physically, sexually and socially. The way when Klay would suffer a bad fall, or come down with a bad illness and how Steph would be there to nurse him back to health whenever the rehabs weren’t available in the much needed time. 

_Shit_. 

When Klay did arrive home, Andre was sitting out casually on the porch, gatorade in one hand and his phone in the other. Klay felt intensely awkward when he approached the older man, his hands buried in his pockets rather geekishly. “Uh- I didn’t know you- well uh..” Klay spoke up, feeling his social issues whelm up as he brung his hand to the back of his neck. It was not that Klay did not know how to talk to Andre, I mean the man was his friend, but it just seemed so weird in this exact moment to talk to him. Especially about Steph. 

He had no idea why, it seemed as if Steph and Andre had this bond that seemed to subside his and Klay’s. 

Andre looked up from his phone at Klay, and he stared at him with a look of some type of mortification. The gaze was so strong, Klay felt as if he should look away, but he didn’t. Eventually, Andre made a face by pressing his lips together and shrugging. “Sorry man, Steph kind of just asked me to take him home. Begged actually. It was weird because I even asked about you, and he just told me a lot of things.” 

“What things?” Klay asked before he could even stop himself. 

Andre stood up, opening his mouth before closing it, and then he opened it again. “He has to tell you himself, it’s not my stance to say anything man. I’ll see you tomorrow though.” Andre responded, nodding towards Klay respectfully before taking off away from the lot. 

Klay had stepped inside of his shared home with his boyfriend, and just from quietness, he felt heart already pounding in his ears. Deciding that calling out for Steph was stupid, Klay just went up to their master bedroom and opened the door to see the room all made up. Even though it was not as dirty as it was before, there was some strings of socks and clothes thrown about but all of that seemed to be picked up. The bed was made, the carpet was vacuumed and everything. 

Where was Steph? 

Klay turned his head to the slightest sniff of sound, and it was Steph coming out of their walk-in closet. Klay noticed his eyes were glossy, red and teary but he decided to not bring that up right now. 

“Steph? What’s going on? Are you.. are you mad at me?” 

“Tsk,” Steph sniffed, running the back of his arm against his eyes. “I’m more so hurt than mad at you.”

Klay’s face dropped, and he immediately rushed over towards Steph to drape his arms around his waist. Fuck, he knew it was not physical, great way to push the obvious a way Klay. He wrapped an arm around Steph’s waist and pulled the smaller man towards his chest, placing a kiss on his forehead as he held him close and squeezed him protectively. “I love you Steph, and I hate seeing you hurt. I really do-“

“Klay.” 

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me, and why I’m even trying to excuse the fact that I get off on you being in pain.” 

“Klay.” Steph repeated, trying to find his voice. He pulled away, with his hands placed on Klay’s chest as he gazed up wearily at the taller man. 

“I love you so much, I don’t even- I can’t even explain it.” 

“ _Klay_ ,” Steph said firmly, forming his hands into fists as he narrowed his eyes at his younger boyfriend. 

Klay shuddered at the tone, suddenly feeling smaller than Steph. He had them suddenly remembered that he was younger than Steph at this moment, which was displayed when he murmured a meek, “What is it?” 

Steph dropped his hands from Klay’s chest, and took a step back while looking away. It seemed as if he desperately tried to regulate his breathing before turning his gaze back to Klay. “When I got injured that day. I knew it was bad man, I really wanted to play. I was fucking crying, and I expected for you to.. well not expected- but as a boyfriend you could’ve at least..not get turned on off of it?” Steph seemed to wince at his own words, and how he chose them but Klay was listening with intent. He knew how Steph hated to look so vulnerable in front of him, if it’s not them having sex or anything else. 

“I feel- well I don’t know how to say it..” Steph was visibly trembling under the weight of invisible pressure, especially with someone he loves. All Klay wanted to do was just bury him in a hug, whisper apologies over and over again.“..I feel used.” 

Klay’s world came crashing down in seconds, and he could barely breathe in any type of oxygen in his lungs. He felt like he was going to go into cardiac arrest, and he might have. Who knows since he blacked out as soon as those words left Steph’s lips. 

_ No, no, no,  no _ . No that’s not fucking it. 

Klay opened his mouth to say something, but his mind was moving faster than his actual body which caused his muscles to lock up instantaneously. It seemed as if bad luck had a thing for Klay when it came to these moments. Klay moved forward, and attempted to reach out for Steph’s arm but the older man moved away as soon as his ears caught the movement of Klay moving towards him. 

“No, no _don’t_ touch me.” Steph mumbled, and it was something you’d have to listen closely to comprehend, but Klay heard it clearly and it felt as if his heart was about to break into pieces. 

Holy fucking shit, that’s when he knew he really fucked up. 

Klay’s mouth went dry, and his heart began to burst out of his rib cage. All he could do is watch Steph begin to move away from him, turning his back on him to go back into the closet. He wanted to stop him, try and haunt whatever he was doing, but he did not want to end up hurting Steph even more. Especially at a hot moment like this. 

And then, there was game later that day. 

•••

**Present day** . 

_Bzzz_

_Bzzzz_

_BZZZZ_

Lebron carefully set down his barbells, and moved from underneath them to retrieve his phone which was rattling on top of a nearby table. With a tired exhale, he stood up and stretched out his aching muscles in a purposely slow motion so it would give him an excuse as to why he couldn’t pick up his phone sooner. Fuck, he wish he had the type of system that some receptionist would ring him first to notify him about incoming calls. It would be his choice to either pass it through, or tell them to fuck off and let him be. 

He should hire one of those people. 

Trekking towards the table, Lebron twisted the cap off of a Powerade bottle and began to chug down the liquid. Whilst he was drinking, he picked up his buzzing phone and read the contact name of whoever was calling him. 

He choked on the gatorade, reading the contact name of simply ‘Steph’ on his phone screen. Like a dumbass, he pressed the green answer button while still trying to regather himself from choking on the gatorade. What was Steph doing calling him so randomly? Right when they were about to go against each other in the finals in a couple of days. 

Steph came on his screen, and he was wearing black v-neck T shirt with ‘SC’ printed on the left side of it. Fuck, Lebron thought he looked absolutely fine in it. Too fine. To Lebron it was the way a bit of his beautifully golden chest was showing, and the collarbones that weren’t shy to be presented in the sweltering heat of the summer. Not only was he wearing a black v neck, but there was a small gold chain with Steph’s name dangling from around his neck too. Damn, he looked good. 

Lebron won’t let him know that though. 

So he cleared his throat, getting rid of excess Powerade still stuck in the burning spots of his throat. “What’s good Steph?” He greeted, wanting to add ‘you never call me unexpected anymore’ but he decided not to because it might’ve seemed too much. 

Steph bit his lip, and shrugged awkwardly. Somehow forgetting why he called Lebron in the first place, right until he mentally punched himself into remembrance. “I just- wanted to hangout with you, like before the games start and stuff. Before all of the media starts to talk about us beefing and shit.” 

The smirk that formed on Lebron’s face at that statement immediately made Steph backtrack with a feverish blush rising to his cheeks. “Just hangout Bron, and nothing more. So don’t even try it.” He reminded, subconsciously stuffing his hands into his thighs, he was glad that the computer did not aim at his full body but just his face and chest. 

Lennon hummed, actually thinking about the idea. He did miss Steph. Truthfully. Yet a question sprung up in his head. “Why not hang with ya boyfriend?” 

Steph had only made a face, and from the looks of it. It seemed as if he was punched in the gut.

Lebron immediately took notice to that expression and sighed, reaching over to grab his towel off of a rack besides the table. 

Guess he would have to take a break for the day.

“Alright, I’ll see if I can make an arrangement to Oakland.” He replied, already about to exit out of the FaceTime app to contact his agent but Steph immediately cut in. 

“No, actually, I’m in Cleveland right now. I’ll send you my location.” 

Lebron raised a brow. 

“Well, I’m on my way.” 


	2. steph curry, lebron james, and klay thompson?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steph visits an old friend, and Klay’s not happy about it.

“Let me get this straight, so you liked seeing your own boyfriend in some serious pain.” Draymond repeated for the third time after Klay told him about the reasons why the whole GSW team were in a awkward place. His voice was coated with genuine confusion, and straight up disgust. The realization of how bad it seemed made Klay cringe, bringing his hand to the back of his head to scratch at it subconsciously. 

“Yeah, he hasn’t talked to me in days. Not in the locker rooms either, and he disappeared last night.” Klay’s voice wavered drastically at the last part. Draymond immediately noticed how bad Klay’s hand was trembling when the other man placed it onto the side of his face, rubbing tiredly at his eye. It seemed as if Klay was losing sleep over this, and that would risk a lot going into these finals. Gosh, he just really wanted to talk things out with his baby. He could not physically handle the torture of them being separated, or possibly permanently broken up. 

Fuck no, he’d actually go psycho if he ever found out that his Steph would be wrapped up in somebody else’s arms. It was something that made him feel nauseous, he wanted to throw up. Talking it out with Draymond in the comfort of his own house seemed like the best outcome, and plus the living room felt warmer than usual. 

“He disappeared? What the hell is he doing disappearing around a time like this? Unless he’s pulling a Dennis Rodman on us.” Draymond pondered, grasping at his can of Arizona ice tea that sat on its coaster on top of the coffee table. Suddenly, common sense hit the both of them. “Why don’t you just call him?” Draymond asked in unison with Klay’s, “Why don’t I just call him?”

“There you go, using that brain of yours.” Draymond said, his voice edged on condescending but Klay paid mind to it. Instead, he already had his flip phone whipped out and he was unapologetically skipping all the messages he got to call his boyfriend. 

—

Right in front of the entrance of his suite, only needing to check in with the receptionist, Steph Curry stood with a wasting ice cream in his left hand. A ringing phone in his right. 

Steph looked at his phone wearily, reading the contact name as to who was calling him. Fuck, it’s been days and Klay decides to call him right now? Steph’s eyes became glossy, and his eyebrows began to furrow while overthinking strains of thought that would process throughout his head. 

Did Klay not care about wherever Steph was until now? Was it because there was a game in a couple of days? Or was it simply because Steph left their home in the middle of the night after unsolved awkward tension between them two. Steph’s hands begin to shake as his phone continued vibrate, and his thumb hesitantly hovered over the green answer button. 

‘’Just answer the phone, and listen to what he has to say. Maybe it’s an actual genuine apology, not something pulled out of his ass in the heat of the moment.’ Is what Steph told himself, but he could not seem to budge. 

“Ah, so Klay’s calling.”

Steph had tensed up, his skin prickling with goosebumps and provoked a shiver down his spine. All he could manage to feel was two large hands trapped firmly on his waist, and hot minty breaths puffed against his ear while he felt his back become pressed against a familiar, broad chest. 

“H-Hey, what are you doing? Who is this?” Steph managed although he had an idea on who it actually is. Still his face went pale at the sight of the phone suddenly stopping its ringing. Which also meant that he missed Klay’s call. He swiftly turned around in the man’s grip, holding his ice cream close to him so he would not cause it to make a mess. The sight of Lebron made him relax, which was out of the ordinary. 

“Oh so, I cant give you a h-” Lebron’s breath was knocked out of him when Steph basically forced Lebron’s body back onto his. The hug was unexpected, something that was not the usual with this pair. What Lebron did was just teasing Steph, just to get him spooked and frightened at his simple presence. Steph drove an arm around Lebron’s torso, holding out the arm that was sheltering the ice cream so he wouldn’t spill it all over Lebron’s clothes. 

Lebron broke out of his spell, moving his long arms around Steph’s waist to properly hug him against his body. His heart was jamming in his chest, and it was for all the wrong reasons. What in the actual fuck did Klay do to Steph? 

When both men eventually pulled away, Steph exhaled a breath and held out the slowly melting ice cream over to Lebron. “Uh, here.. it looked more nice when I first bought it at Ben and Jerry’s. I still remember your favorite flavor, I think.” 

Lebron took the cone into his hands, accidentally brushing his fingers against Steph’s. “Thanks man, I appreciate it.” 

Steph smiled, his eyes glistening cutely as he looked up at Lebron. “Nice seeing you again. You look great.” To Lebron, it seemed as if Steph had this whole meet up planned out from the get-go, which surprised him really. It’s been a long time since they met up, and he was not sure what to expect from the younger man. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself.” Lebron replied, wanting to keep the compliment short and sweet. Lebron did mean to say more though, especially from the white tank-top Steph was wearing during this blazing heat. It showed his collarbones, chest along with those smooth tanned arms that glowed under the hot sun and the blue, yellow basketball shorts he had on as well. Steph looked eatable, and Lebron had not hesitation to eat him today, but it dawned heavily over him that having sex is not the reason why they’d meet up. 

Before Klay was drafted to the Warriors. Before he rejoined the Cavaliers, sparking a bit of something with Kyrie, still not knowing what they are. Steph and Lebron were something. It was infamous. From when Steph was in college to the day before their first game against each other. They were “bowling” but in reality the two of them were fucking, hard. 

They were on and off, all the way up to the 2012 draft. Lebron had one time visit Steph in rehab back in 2010, after a drastically bad ankle game that was televised nationally. 

••

“Hey man, look at me, look at me baby.” Lebron gently tilted Steph’s head up, using his large hands to cup at the younger’s cheek for leverage. “Everything is going to work out. God has something planned for you, don’t even fret about it.”

Steph’s bottom lip quivered, and his eyelashes were damped with incoming tears of frustration. “I really want to play though, it’s not fair at all. They just turn and shit. I’ll be better soon though- maybe.. I can play the next game, I’ll have my ankle taped, ready to go.” He was stammering over himself, his breaths were airy and trickling with some type of apprehension. 

It kind of frightened Lebron, he’s seen this with Kobe and look at him, the most impactful player in the league. 

So what would Steph turn out to be? 

Lebron pulled Steph in, holding him against his body as the younger sobbed and cursed in frustration. All he could do was rub Steph’s backside, and whisper kind words of encouragement into his ear. It was what Steph needed, especially when he felt that he was useless because with Steph it would go deeper, and deeper until he’s in a dark place. 

“I love you, alright?” Lebron boldly confessed, it came out way too fast for him to stop it.

Steph moved away, looking up at Lebron with teary eyes and a flushed face. “You do?” He asked, his voice was tiny and somewhat afraid that he heard wrong. 

Instead of answering, Lebron just pulled him back into a hug and they sat there in that training room for good half hour. 

••

Although Lebron had refuse to utter those three words again, he still stood by them mentally. Feeling as if he was responsible to continue to oversee Steph and his future relationships, Lebron would drop everything to help. Even when it would cause him to lose sleep at his own resistance of just giving Steph a part of his own world. 

Steph and Lebron were both seated in one of Lebron’s cars inside of his garage. Lebron was slurping at the melting ice cream while Steph was desperately gathering himself together. 

“Shit, okay.” Steph eventually sighed under his breath, and he began to pull the basketball shorts up his thighs. His smooth skin becoming more and more revealed to Lebronwithin each second. 

Oh shit, oh shit, _oh shit_.

Lebron watched closely, keeping himself stoned face as his tongue became glued to the ice cream. ‘HOLY SHIT I’M NOT PREPARED FOR THIS SHIT!’ was chanting in Lebron’s head as he continued to watch Steph roll up his basketball shorts. 

Steph stopped, and moved one hand to his right knee. Lebron finally noticed that there was a bandage wrapped around it, and for an instance he thought Klay caused it. Then he thought it was completely idiotic to think that Klay Thompson would do that at the same time, but there was simultaneously little to no context about what was going on between them. Lebron could only wonder. 

“So..  this happened in game 4. It was a wet spot on the floor that I slipped on, but I’m not blaming it this on anybody really. Maybe they forgot to wipe it up, it’s no biggie.” 

Spraining your MCL just because the floor wipers weren’t doing their job is not a case of ‘it’s no biggie’ but it was Steph for you. Always understanding to something that does not need to be understood. 

“But the thing is, I sprained my MCL and it really hurts. I couldn’t go back in to play. I had to sit out. It really fucked me up Bron.” Steph’s face morphed into the exact expression that was there when Steph found out he could not play with a bad ankle. Lebron’s heart ached. “It fucking sucks man, I was doing so well this season. I felt like I had it down pat. A solid victory, with me participating.” The younger continued, frustration laced heavily in his voice. 

Lebron slurped his ice cream again, reaching his hand out to clutch gently at Steph right knee which caused the younger to jolt. Steph’s face flushed with a blush in his cheeks, and he placed his hands gently on Lebron’s wrist in order to pull his hand off of his leg. “Aye, chill. I’m not about to pull anything, just.. let me touch it.” Lebron announced, before moving his hand against the bandage, gently massaging at the muscle of his knee. 

Steph grunted, and squirmed at the massages. “It’s still tender.” 

“I know. I know you. Remember, I did this with your ankle back then. Just continue on, I’m listening.” Lebron replied, finishing off his ice cream while caressing Steph’s knee with his other hand. 

Steph stared fondly at Lebron for a second, before pulling himself onwards with his story. “So, I was expecting Klay to you know.. try and like- I don’t know. At least be there for me. Well he was but it was strange. He liked it. Like, he liked me being hurt and crying.” 

“What?” Lebron paused, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion at what he had just heard. 

“Klay, he likes me being hurt. Gets off to it. I mean- it might just be a kink and I’m all for whatever he likes. In the bedroom though. I just don’t understand why out of all things, he likes  that . It really fucking rubs me the wrong way because it makes me think, every time I get hurt, does he end up getting turned on? Is sex all he thinks about when I start crying because of some seven-footer ramming into me and breaking my fucking neck.” 

Lebron stopped his ministrations on Steph’s knee, and placed his hand on the armrest. He exhaled, and then said, “Wow.” 

Steph clenched his jaw, and looked over at Lebron while he spoke in a low  voice. “Can we go inside your home? It’s hot in here.” 

•••

_klaythompson_ :  babe? where r u? imy :(

**Sent 2 hours ago.**

_klaythompson_ :  i’m so sorry like.. i csnt explain it through text. i don’t deserve u. but idk whst id do if i lost u for good. :( im ab to cry. thats how bad i miss u. 

**Sent 58 minutes ago**

_klaythompson_ :  steph lets talk ab this..fr babe

**Sent 2 minutes ago.**

_stephencurry30_ :  im in cleveland 

_klaythompson_ :  ...why

_stephencurry30_ :  lol why not 

_klaythompson_ :  steph wtf r u doing there??

_stephencurry30_ :  why does it matter..

Klay stood up which had spontaneously spill his drink all over the coffee table, which had startled Draymond significantly. His blood was pumping unhealthily as he typed out his next set of words in respond to Steph’s messages. He could not believe this. What was Steph thinking? Both NBA wise and Klay wise, this could cause trading rumors, lots of other shit. Klay knew Lebron was in Cleveland at the moment, and Klay also knew that there was a Steph/Lebron at one point. 

“What’s happening?” Draymond casually asked, placing some paper towels on the spilled mess. 

“Steph is trippin.” Klay immediately responded, his chest growing tight at the thought of Lebron and Steph together. He does not know what to think right now. 

“If it’s because you like seeing him in an ambulance or something, I can’t really blame him.” Draymond joked, knowing that it would come out empty but he decided to say it anyway. 

_klaythompson_ :  ur not seeing bron r u? c’mon that’s just childish af steph. you’d talk to him before u talk to me. tf is up with that? we talked abt his before... 

_stephencurry30_ :  bruh i just told him ab my knee & he was comforting me, something you obviously have a problem doing. 

_klaythompson_ :  i’m omw. 

_stephencurry30_ :  yo can you chill tf out. 

_klaythompson_ :  u just- ok, steph. 

_stephencurry30_ :  you act as if i’m sleeping with him lmao. he’s literally one of my bffs. you’re such an ass dude. i’m coming back tonight anyways. 

_klaythompson_ :  ur mad at me.. idk if u wanted to break up or not. then u suddenly just up and leave. like wtf? 

_stephencurry30_ :  LMFAO well do you want to break up?

_ klaythompson _ : no. 

Steph could not help but to chuckle bitterly under his breath, leaning back against Lebron’s massage chair. It caused the older man to pause his GTA 5 mission in the middle of a heated bank robbery, and direct his attention towards Steph. “You alright?” 

“Mhm,” Steph hummed with a smile on his face, waving his hand off at Lebron as he typed his next message with one hand. 

_ stephencurry30 _ : then accept that i’ll come back tonight. 

•••

It was around midnight, and Klay was sweating. He already practiced his shots several times while he was waiting for the car to pull up into the driveway. To be frank, his blood was boiling drastically and there are a lot of ways to put down how Klay was angry, but it could not help but to be there. It had been boiling throughout the tirade of text messages they sent to each other that afternoon. It was becoming too much. 

They never had an ongoing argument like this before, and it was all too frustrating for either one to deal with. Especially during the playoffs. This was a time where they’d usually seem to work out some kinks, and stay positive. Something is going to be off during these finals, it’s not as good as it will be like last year. 73-9 or not, Klay had some doubt that they’d actually cappull it off with a 2nd ring. 

Gosh, he should stop talking to himself in his head. It won’t benefit him anything in the finals. 

Suddenly, headlights confronted him and it caused him to turn around as a car pulled up in his driveway. Not exactly trying to hit him, but it was weirdly aggressive at it pulled in. Klay watched in angry silence as Lebron stepped out of the car, along with Steph afterwards. Klay narrowed his eyes as they both stretched out due to the long drive that costed them the whole day. 

“Whaddup Klay?” Lebron greeted, sitting on the hood of his car as Steph began to head over towards Klay. He looked tired, but that was not going to save him from the vicious argument that may or may not ensue. 

“Lebron.” Klay flatly responded, reaching out to grasp firmly at Steph’s wrist as the shorter man tried to slip past the two. “So, what’s been up with y’all today? Especially with you Steph. What’ve you and Lebron been up to?”

“Can you let go of me? I’m tired.” Steph replied, not facing Klay but instead he was facing the entrance to the house. Wanting so badly to slip out of the tight grip of Klay’s hand, and into the shower. He might skip a shower though, due to the circumstances right now, he just wants to go to sleep as fast as possible. These were the times he would wish that he was not one of the smallest men in the league. 

“He said let go of him.” Lebron said amusedly with a small smirk on his face, he knew Klay would do what he says. Especially since he’s right here. It seemed as if Lebron had an authority on both of the men. He pushed himself off the hood of his car, and walked over towards the two men. He hovered over the both of them. 

Klay exhaled through his nose, letting go of Steph’s hand. Gosh, he fucking hated being so annoyed and cornered like this. The footsteps of Steph trotting into the house burns into his eardrum passionately, and it didn’t help the already burning anger welling up. It was entirely rare when he’d get this mad. 

“You can stay out of this Lebron. This is between me and Steph.” Klay said, lifting his eyes up to stare into Lebron’s. Fuck he looked like a giant for some reason, and the muscles premiered from Lebron did not help Klay’s case. 

The 6’9 man towered over him, both of them staring at each other with a hard gaze, it was so thick that if there was third person that did not know the context of this catching them, it would look very homoerotic. 

“Then why’d he come to me?” Lebron asked, seeking at the right button to push. 

Klay was fired up, and Lebron saw it from afar, so when Klay tried to throw hook the older man caught at his wrist before it could land. Klay was genuinely seeing red, not knowing what the fuck was going on with him, but something about how Lebron said that sentence had him over the edge. “What the fuck does that supposed to mean?! Huh?” Klay clenched his teeth as he questioned the meaning of that query. 

“I don’t know Klay, you tell me.” 

This time Klay’s punch landed exactly against Lebron’s mouth, busting his lip open from the furious rush of the punch and how quickly it crashed against his face. Lebron let go of Klay’s other hand, and held his bleeding lip with both of his hands. Genuine puzzlement came over him, but the anger was not there. 

“Keep your fucking hands off of me.” Klay spat, moving his hands back in balled fist, it looked as if he was in a fighting stance. 

“Right, I’m out.” Lebron announced after a beat, turning his back towards Klay and heading over to his car. 

Klay blinked in surprise at how Lebron did not retaliate, but he could still feel the adrenaline that anger granted him. Especially as he seen one of the lights to the bedroom go off in the reflection of the sidewalk. It was while Lebron began to pull off, getting ready to head off back to Cleveland which would be a long ride. 

Klay swiftly turned around, making his way inside of the house to confront his boyfriend of four years. 

•••

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out that i keep going overboard so there’s actually a 3rd chap to this. enjoy!! comment what you think pls. ilysm


	3. just a teammate?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> turns out this will be 4 chapters?? honestly idek this is longer than i wanted it to be 
> 
> ahh here comes the communication issues & annoying misunderstandings. 
> 
> please comment your thoughts & what-not it helps, like it REALLY helps
> 
> excuse the errors.. enjoy!!

_Flick_. 

“And what are you doing?” Steph queried, the right side of his body pressed delicately against the bedsheets. “Turn the lights off.” He whined, moving the coverlet overhead to block the beaming light that intruded his attempt to sleep. 

“Get up.” Klay demanded, angry and speculating. “We need to talk now.” 

‘He can not be serious,’ Steph had thought to himself as he immediately opened both of his eyes into the darkness of the sheets. Klay is the one who has the audacity demand a  talk , demanding him to get up, knowing that he just got back from a lengthy trip with Lebron James. Steph grew more exasperated as he moved the covers away from his head, sitting up just a bit to meet the view of Klay who’s undeniably gotten closer. “I said that I’m tired, can’t you be considerate and think with your head instead of your  dick for once?”

That one hurt. Steph knew it did too, and he wanted to twist it in deeper into Klay’s guilty skin. 

“I want to sleep and be left alone .” 

Klay’s expression seemed fragile compared to his demeanor when he stormed into their household. “Don’t..” He muttered, voice shaky and somewhat nervous. 

Steph’s face hardened, hands gripping onto the sheet in fists of bottled up agitation. “Don’t _what_?” He spat, mercilessly. 

“Don’t be like this Stephen. Let’s talk about this, this isn’t us. Okay? Just talk to me, it really hurts me how you can talk to Lebron but not me.” Klay replied, honesty dripping from his voice as he trudged over towards the bed. Steph stood still, gaze unarguably intimidating as the younger male took a seat at the side of the bed near Steph. “I’ve been thinking about you for the past few days, and I honestly think we should settle this before the finals.” 

Steph rolled his eyes, scoffing. “How can I talk to you? Who knows, you might pop a hard on in the middle of me talking about how much pain I was in. Mentally, and physically.” 

Klay’s breath stuttered, guilt abruptly fucking up his focus. “Knowing that I hurt you because of that, it keeps me unsettled and shaky. I don’t intentionally get turned on by it Steph, it’s something that happens.” 

Steph seemed to be on fire, different things spilling out of his mouth at this point. Things that have been caged up in his mind for the last couple of days. “How do you unintentionally get your dick hard? Unless you’re thinking of something sexual. That’s your own control. That’s just you being  sick .” The last part came out with venom, something that scared Klay. This was not his Steph talking, this was someone who had immense pressure on his shoulders and frustration. 

“I’m trying to apologize Stephen, if you don’t want to accept it then don’t. Yet at least tell me what you and Lebron were doing.”

Steph stared at Klay crazy, and then he shoved him away. He moved both of his legs off the bed, a little quick for his well-being since he ended up wincing from pressuring his knee in the new position at the same time. Klay felt his heart squeeze in on itself, Steph’s uncharacteristic coldness towards him was something he hadn’t prepared for. Steph stood up on his two feet, turning towards Klay with a demanding stare in his usually welcoming eyes. “What me and Lebron talked about in Cleveland.. it’s something that I already told you about. It was about my knee. Did you see that text I sent you or were you thinking about something else?” 

“I got the text Stephen. I read it and all, I just don’t understand why you came to him about it.” Klay rasped, standing up as well. He felt as if he was going to faint, his head spinning. “Steph,” Klay hardened his voice this time, trying not to slip. “You’re making this more difficult than it has to be.”

Steph rolled his eyes, “You’re the one overthinking Thompson. If you think we fucked just say it instead of bitching out.” 

Klay’s breath hitched, and his face flushed. Steph noticed the button he pressed - and then. 

“What the fuck are you talking about? I wouldn’t think that unless I had a reason to.” 

“I went to him for comfort Klay. My knee hurts, my back hurts, and even now I’m getting a migraine just talking about this shit.” Steph’s voice softened, eyes growing vulnerable and a pout began to fixate on his face as he continued. “If I can’t find a resource of comfort that I want here, then I want to go to someone where I can get it without the person wanting to bend me over.” 

“Steph..” 

“I thought you’d understand how much of a mental toll being injured in the middle of the playoffs can do to you. Especially with the amount of pressure piled up onto your back by the media and fans.” Steph proceeded, forcing the wave of frustration to get away from him before he could cry in front of Klay. “I’m guessing I was wrong.” He murmured, he half hoped that Klay wouldn’t hear it, just because he simply hadn’t found the energy this time to listen to Klay’s excuses. He was tired. 

“You’re not wrong, Steph. It’s just.. I’m just a dumbass and I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Klay said, truthfully. “I’ve always been feeling guilty about this, and I would tell myself to stop it. To stop looking at you like that when you’re in obvious pain.” Carefully, he took some strides towards the smaller man, feeling as if he moved faster he’d scare him away. 

Maybe he already had. Maybe he already has scared him away. 

Klay felt his gut churn, finally standing in a close proximity to Steph, it was weird to. After days of Steph awkwardly distancing himself away from Klay, he was now close to him where their chests almost touched. “I’m so.. so so sorry baby. I really am, I honestly don’t know what I be doing with myself half of the time I’m around you. I just get these thoughts and..” 

Steph cut him off when he gently placed his hand against Klay’s chest. “Klay, I’m so tired.” There came a response, something that had finality written all over its tone and it was making Klay feel cold chills. 

Klay swallowed down hot, and scalding saliva that burnt his throat. His lips quivered as he forced out a rather stretched question, “Are you breaking up with me?” The voice was not his own, it was meek and childlike. Klay grasped Steph’s hand in his larger ones, moving the backside up to his lips to brush them along Steph’s smooth skin. 

Steph, silent, stared deadpanned at Klay when the younger man began to desperately kiss at his hand. 

The silence was killing Klay, the lack of response and reaction to his question was tearing from limb to limb. “Steph, baby, I love you. You know that right? You’re so beautiful in this light.” Klay began to stammer, panic flooding his system as he stepped closer and embraced his boyfriend. He hugged Steph close to his body, kissing skin of his shoulder whilst squeezing him closer and closer. “I love you so much.” He murmured, breath trembling hastily. 

Steph tensed, seeming to come back to earth when he felt Klay kiss at his shoulder. He brought his hands up, weakly pushing at Klay’s biceps. “Get off of me. Let me go.” His voice was muffled, and confused when he heard soft sobs come from Klay. 

“I can’t lose you Steph, please, I’m sorry.” Klay’s voice was wrecked with emotions, and as much as it would tug the fuck out of Steph’s heart. Even when it was rare, Klay crying would always make Steph upset at his own self even when it was not his fault. 

Yet still —

“Klay you’re  _hurting_ me. Let me go.” 

And when Klay let him go, Steph turned away before he can get a look at his face. “I’m not.. I don’t- I’m not good at breaking up with people.” Steph had then said after a few beats, and sniffles from Klay who he had yet to face. “I do need some time to think though. Alone, and not with you.” 

Klay winced at that, and he rubbed the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“I hope you understand that.” 

•••

**THE MORNING OF THE NBA FINALS 2016 || GAME 1**

It’s been weeks since they had last talked. Steph had been over at his parents for the time being, and their text messages had been simple over the course of the last few days. With an exception of this morning, their short conversation caused Klay’s heart to leap dangerously. 

klaythompson : goodmorning, i hope u slept well last night 

stephencurry30:  i did hope u did  💕

Klay was in the middle of brushing his teeth when he saw the; “ 💕 ” and it caused him to jump around in angst like a teenager. Is this the first step to them getting back to where it used to be? Or maybe he’s just desperate. 

“Let’s get this dub, alright? We’ve worked hard this year.” Draymond said, the words were supposed to be encouraging but it could not seem to sink in for Klay. “Two times on the big stage already y’all, can you believe that?” 

“Shitting me.” Harrison Barnes joked as he passed by, heading over to the rack of basketballs, stranded at the other side of the practice gym. 

Klay tied the shoe that he wore on the right foot while everyone else that had been sitting on the bleachers agreed with Draymond. Honestly, Klay felt as if the vibe was off between the team and it was mainly because the ‘splash brothers’ haven’t been the same. Everyone has noticed that, even coach Kerr who had been sending them looks each time they played in a scrimmage game. 

Andre asked him about it only once, and it was just a simple question. “Are you and Steph alright?” To which Klay only responded with a sad smile that didn’t exactly reach his eyes, and a facial expression that basically said, ‘I honestly don’t know man, it is what it is.’ Andre left it alone afterwards, only giving Klay a much needed bro-hug.Klay threw up in the bathroom stall after that, too much stress mounting on him and from the fact that even the team has noticed the shift in moods.

When Klay reached for his other shoe, he realized it was not there. Frowning, he looked up at the figure that stood in front of him, Stephen Curry. Late to practice, but here and gorgeous in just regular warrior practice gear. Steph had Klay’s shoe in his small hand, the grip gentle and his eyes curious as he inspected the footwear. Klay felt his cheeks burn as he just sat there and let the smaller man observe his shoe, it was an old habit between them that Klay found adorable. 

Every time they’d get ready for practice, Steph would randomly grab and inspect Klay’s shoes. For Klay’s safety, and for the design. 

After a few seconds, Steph handed the shoe back and with a soft tone to his voice, “Nice.. those new?” 

“Uh.. yeah. Kinda.” Klay stuttered, mentally kicking himself for being so awkward. Gosh it’s been so long since they’ve carried a normal conversation. How long has it been, a week or two? He missed Steph so much, and just from this interaction he felt as if he was going to break down in the middle of practice. Klay pulled a hand back to scratch at the back of his neck. “Do you um.. want some?” 

Steph’s eyes lit up gloriously and that genuine smile. _Fuck_. That smile that Klay hadn’t seen in weeks. Klay felt nausea flood his system again, he didn’t deserve this man. This precious being. After all the shit he had put him through, putting their relationship on the line because of his sick desires. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’d like that.” 

Step 1  has passed, hopefully. When practice was over Klay called his agent, demanding her to preorder shoes for Steph and have them delivered to him first before anyone else can get to them. Afterwards, he was heading into the showers in the locker room, even though he could have gone home to shower. He didn’t want to be back with his loneliness. 

When he was done, whenever that was, he got dressed in his casual clothes. Klay had the feeling that he was coming down with something, feeling his body ache, and his head begin to pound. 2016 is really a year of the unknown to ever happen is it? Almost losing his boyfriend, well.. probably has. Winning 73 to 9 games, his boyfriend becoming MVP the second time of his career only a year apart. He thought back to that night. Klay’s chest feeling warm as he watched Steph hold up the MVP reward, hoping - jokingly that he wouldn’t drop it. 

Klay hassling Steph to the bed, adrenaline rushing throughout their bodies as they tore each other’s clothes off. Klay hitching Steph up into his lap, Steph sitting down onto his cock, taking him inside easy and slow. Both of their breaths hitching in delight, fast and slow paces that went on for hours on end. 

Klay sighed in frustration, throwing his old clothes into the bag he bought with him, and then he turned around to face Steph. The way he jumped back against the locker from the sight, and from how he clutched at his chest had Steph doubled over, laughing. “Oh shit, my bad. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“It’s fine.” Klay said, voice flat and his expression resembling embarrassment. He glanced around, feeling weird. “I thought you left with the others.. you know since practice is over and shit.” He forced out, not even knowing how nonchalant he sounded. 

Steph’s expression transitioned into something that was deemed unreadable. “No, no. I just.. wanted to check in on you.” 

After weeks of them not talking to each other, and Steph somewhat not accepting his persistent apology - now he wants to check in on Klay? This sudden change of attitude seemed taunting, unbelievable, especially when it was just a week ago when Steph was  talking to him in a way he never did before. 

They’ve gotten into little quarrels, but they made up since it had nothing to do with anything. It would just be about small issues that could be easily taken care of. An MCL injury is different. 

“Why?” Klay asked, feeling pressed to ask, to wrench some type of context out. This was pure paranoia haunting him from their last face to face confrontation. 

The unreadable expression migrated into a hurt one. Steph took a step back, looking wounded like he just got shot. 

Klay’s heart fell at that. Back to step 1. 

“Steph, I just wanted to know why..” He quickly said, and the way his voice came out so aggressive and not his own. “I mean, you’re acting like everything is fine out of nowhere and I’m just confused.” 

“Acting like everything is..” Steph was flabbergasted as he repeated Klay’s words sharply under his breath, “..I literally just came in here to check in on you. I can’t do that now? The reason why is because you’re my  _teammate_ .” He truly sounded offended by the statement, to a point he didn’t even catch up to the last word he spat out. His breath hitched when he did realize what he said, and when he read the reaction on Klay’s face. 

“So I’m just a teammate now?” Klay’s voice was trembling, and his stomach churned with intense nausea again. He couldn’t believe this. 

“You know what I meant.” Steph stammered, some type of wicked fear trickling into his usually poised features. 

Klay swallowed down hard, as he zipped up his bag and lifted it upon his shoulder. He just wanted to fucking leave, get this day over with so he wouldn’t have to see anyone else tomorrow. “The way things are between us right now, I honestly don’t know what you mean Steph.” Klay managed, moving past Steph to head out of the locker room. 

“Klay..” Steph softly called out before Klay can push open the door and storm out. Klay surprisingly, had paused, and turnt his head to look over his shoulder to lock eyes with the smaller man. “..never mind.” Steph said, his face flushing and his head bowing ashamedly. 

It was Klay’s turn to think things over right now. 

•••

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by a BTS taekook story, it’s incomplete but it’s soooooo good.


End file.
